


Memories Will Be the Death of Us

by Wordprism



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (2012), X-Men (Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men Origins: Wolverine (2009)
Genre: Avengers - Freeform, M/M, Weapon X Project, X Mansion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-28
Updated: 2013-06-28
Packaged: 2017-12-16 09:38:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/860656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wordprism/pseuds/Wordprism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After returning from his frozen state, Steve has to face the fact that things will never be the way they used to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memories Will Be the Death of Us

               Steve Rogers made his way towards the conference room.   A troop of men had been captured by Hydra, and now was the time to create a plan of attack.  He sat down, across from several other commanders and generals.  It was funny how they eyed him in envy, talking dirt in his absence about how he was never a real, self-made soldier.  Steve processed the glances, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.  When the main authorities decided that it was best if Steve led the rescue, the hatred in the room only deepened.  He wasn’t even a real fighter according to the other commanders.  How come the stick skinny twerp was suddenly getting all the women’s attention? And the fame? And the glory too?

                Pushing his mind past the criticism, Steve nodded and stood, walking over to the series of maps where he traced out a battle route with his hand.  Hydra wouldn’t be expecting an attack from the front security face.  It was almost so obvious that it was the perfect sneak attack.  The troop would make it home by midnight.  Steve turned to the commander and asked, “You gonna send me with some men? Or am I flying solo on this one.”  

                “You can’t take this one on alone, sport.  Troop deploys in an hour.  Get yourself together and prepare to get our soldiers back. This is right down to the nitty gritty.”

                Steve nodded stiffly, breezing down the hall to change into his striped uniform and grab his indestructible vibranium shield. He zipped up the last sections of his suit, then placing his mask over his eyes and adjusting it according to his reflection in the mirror.  Now was the time to concentrate.  He wasn’t going to let his troops and his country down.  At four in the evening, Steve returned to the bunks, having all his men sent down to the planes and weapon storage units.  Some of the soldiers had just been introduced, while others had been fighting and surviving for what felt like eternity.  The Captain gazed at the lineup, nodding his head in approval.  He had a group of passionate fighters with him.  

                “Logan, second in command,” the sergeant ordered. 

Steve raised a brow and caught sight of the man, who nodded indifferently and leaned back against a tree trunk.  He pulled a match from his pocket, striking it on the bark and lighting a cigar. “Him?” Steve questioned the sergeant’s decision.

Overhearing, Logan piped up. “Got a problem, bub?”

Rogers tensed, biting his lip. “Watch your mo-”

“Pal, I ain’t talking up to you any more than you do me.”  Logan bit on the cigar, pulling it from his lips and puffing the smoke.

The sergeant chuckled, a bit of nervousness radiating from him.  “You two will get along fine.”  He made a quick exit, leaving Steve with the troop.

Steve sighed, lining up his men and explaining the battle plans.  Logan didn’t say much, almost as if he intended on keeping a low profile.  Ironic how every time he spoke it was almost guaranteed to be because he wanted to tell someone off.  When the strategies to be used had been established, they began heading for Hydra’s base, which was about fifteen miles marching distance. 

“Will you quit that?” Steve gagged inside at the smell as Logan lit another cigar. 

“No thanks Captain Tightass.  Why, too against the rules?”

“Just afraid they might smell you coming before we’re at the door.”

Logan rolled his eyes, breathing in more smoke and exhaling again.  He’d fought in more battles than this guy could imagine, yet he was forced to take his orders. What a load of-

“Howlett.  Take half to the east wing of the building.  There’s a good chance they’re locked up there.  I’ll check the basements too.”  Steve motioned half of the soldiers downstairs, taking out a guard or two when need be.  As assumed, prisoners were kept all throughout the base.  Steve and his group freed those downstairs, while Logan and the rest rescued those upstairs.  When Steve returned, he gazed down at some of the murdered guards, all of whom had… claw marks… which had left their chests bloody and slashed wide open. He raised an eyebrow as Logan returned, staring  at his hands. 

“Good enough for ya?” Logan kicked a guard trying to get up in the temple without even sparing a glance.

Steve nodded slowly, still unable to remove his mind from the claw-like marks that pronounced the death of the enemies.  “Looks like we’ve got all of them.  Let’s move out before something happe-”

Steve’s eyes widened as a dying guard picked up a blade and threw it directly into Logan’s side.  Logan winced and growled, falling to his knees and ripping the knife out.  His wound quickly began to cease bleeding, and new skin slowly closed up the breakage.  But before Howlett could stand up, the guard was on his feet and stepped on Logan’s forearm.  The guard waited for something, which Steve was unsure of, until the silent room filled with the sound of cracking bone.

The watchman collapsed as Steve fired a round into his torso, then finally making it over to Logan and kneeling by his side.  “Where’d he hit you? Logan?” As Steve waited for a response, he observed his second in command’s bleeding hand, most of the red gushing from between his knuckles.  However, his shirt was torn, skin seemingly unaffected even though he’d been knifed pretty deeply.  “Alright, let’s get everyone back home.” Standing in his red, white, and blue suit, Steve ensured that all of the injured were helped back to base.

Logan slowly opened his eyes as the pain faded, giving him a chance to breathe with relief.  He was no longer dizzied with pain, only sensitive to the jagged ends of his broken claws as they caught on the inside of his skin.  “Ah.. shit…” he mumbled, a low snarl escaping his throat.

“Finally awake, huh?” Steve asked from across the medical room, turning back around to face Logan. “You were out almost a full day. What the hell did he do to you?”

“Guy sleeps more than ten hours and you’re all up in my-”

“A full day, Logan-”

“He didn’t do shit to me.  Calm down-” Logan shut his mouth when he caught sight of Steve’s expression.  It almost somehow faintly resembled the fact that Steve was actually trying to mean business.  He actually looked a bit hurt at the constant attitude given to him.  “I don’t know.  It just hurt like a mother-”

“Logan.”

“Sorry.”

“Thank you.”  Steve walked over with a roll of bandages, looking at the crusted blood on the soldier’s knuckles.  “Funny, your hand isn’t broken… I can’t figure out what he did to you.  And it doesn’t look that bad but… It’s a hell of a weird looking injury.”

Logan said nothing, just continued to nod in agreement.  He honestly wanted to bring up the fact that his hand _was_ broken.  In fact, the most important part of his hands.  How the heck was he supposed to stab people now?  And he hated himself for wishing to admit it, but he was in extremely deep pain.  He closed his eyes as he felt Steve wipe the blood with a cloth from his knuckles, momentarily without discomfort. As the cloth made contact with Logan’s claw openings, he gasped in a tremendous jolt of pain, unaware that his broken claws had shot out of his skin.

Steve swallowed, and then blinked as if he was looking at something you’d only see if you were on drugs.  He rubbed his eyes.  Surely the heat and grime were messing up his brain. But no, the claws were still there.  Curiously, he lifted Logan’s hand and held his wrist, studying the three bones that appeared cracked and broken as they jutted out from between his fingers.  Steve’s voice was soft and curious, maybe even a bit intimidated.  “Logan…”

Eyes still shut, Logan rubbed the side of his face on his toned shoulder, then yawned a bit and reopened his eyes.  The moment he caught sight of Steve viewing his claws, he growled to cover his gasp and retracted them immediately.  Shocked at the speed, Steve looked as if he had just seen a ghost.  “Logan… what…”

“Doesn’t matter.  It heals, eventually.”  He removed his wrist from Steve’s grip, moving his forearm under the covers. 

                “Logan, let me see.  Now.”

                “Relax, Cap.” Logan held both arms under the sheets and shook his head.  “Shit happens.  What’re you gonna’ do?”

                “Help you. You can’t just expect everything to get better on its own.”  Steve held the edge of the blanket and pulled it back.

                Logan didn’t move and chuckled.  “Don’t feed me that.  Everything gets better on its own.  Believe me.”

                “Do that again, so we can tape it up.”  Steve held his wrist again, Logan’s entire arm tensing.  “I already know.  Not much you can do to make me forget it.”

                Teeth gritted heavily, Logan allowed his claws to emerge, hesitantly at first.  He stared at them and then glanced up at Steve, who began to splint and tape them up. 

                “Leave them out, at least for a few days until they correct enough.”  Steve kept a firm expression, even though he was genuinely intrigued.  How was something like this even possible?  He finished fixing Logan’s claws, resting his forearm back down.  “There…”

                As much as it stressed Logan, he choked out a “Thank you.” He rubbed his nose with the back of his hand, speaking to Steve as he switched rooms to help some others.  There weren’t many injured as of now, so each person had a decent amount of space when they were in fact hurt.  “You aren’t half bad, even though you’re proper as hell and it annoys the living sh-… daylights outta’ me.”

                Steve chuckled as he came back into Logan’s room, stopping dead in his tracks as he caught him with another cigar in his mouth.  “Absolutely not, throw it out.”  He approached Logan, holding out his palm for the cigar.

                Logan shook his head and laughed loudly.  Laughed? He… laughed.  “Yeah, over my dead body.  Could I get a light?”

                “Give. Me. It.” When Logan still refused and clenched his teeth on the cigar, Steve leaned over and pulled it from his mouth.  “I swear, someday they’ll discover these things kill you…” Steve set the cigar down on the bedside table as Logan looked at him from a short distance away.  He froze, but wasn’t sure why.  He only came back to his senses when his eyes were lightly closed with another pair of lips against his.  His palm now rested on Logan’s cheek, parting his lips as he ran his hand up his sideburn and tangling his fingers in his dark hair.  And the world seemed to almost grow warm and melt around them.

                Steve woke as the light peeked in through the window.  He squinted and slowly let his eyelids flutter open.  His head was tucked under someone’s chin as he was held close, face buried against their chest.  Catching the smoky, musty scent, Steve immediately realized he was with Logan.  How did that even… It wasn’t important.  Steve would normally have been panicking, except for the fact that he didn’t shiver from the cold at all last night, and that he felt oddly secure where he was.  He didn’t feel like moving.  As he felt a hand run through his combed hair, he nuzzled deeper into Logan’s chest.  Hopefully he wouldn’t have to move…for a while… or ever again, if he was lucky.  This felt unreal… Steve had never had anyone.  He locked his arms around Logan’s waist, quietly and innocently kissing his neck until he woke up as well.  “Morning…”

                Logan gazed down at Steve’s shining, innocent blue eyes.  This would be where he questioned what had been rolled into that cigar. Instead, he half smiled, for once, holding Steve tighter and pressing against him.  “Do you-”

                “Rogers, the Skull’s on his way to-…” The nurse froze as she began to speak, forgetting what she had come to tell the Captain about. “I’ll…” She looked down sharply, turning around as Logan sat up straight. “Holy smokes…” She hurried off and got into a sprint by the time she reached the door.

                Steve sat up, stretching his back and grabbing his uniform.  “Damn it…” He glanced back at Logan, who only smirked the more Steve blushed.  Logan laid back again, covering himself with more blankets so he could rest again and recover fully.  He could sleep for days on end it seemed.  When someone else entered the room and informed Steve about the Red Skull’s plan to bomb the United States, Steve realized he had to catch the plane before hundreds of thousands lost their lives.  All he had to do was change the course of the aircraft and land it somewhere safe.

                “Logan, I have to go… I’ll be back by tonight.” The super soldier approached Logan’s bedside, watching him as he slowly dozed off.  Just the sight made a small smile form on his lips. Steve ruffled his hair lightly, then leaned down and kissed his temple and the corner of his lips. “Bye, Wolvie,” he whispered as Logan made a small grunt to acknowledge him.

                Steve passed through the hallways and prepared for his mission.  After sneaking around, he was able to jump onto the ramp of the aircraft as it lifted up and closed.  The Skull was in for it now.  Now way Steve would let him get away with stealing the tesseract.  Not today.  More importantly, he would never allow his home to be bombed.   

                Captain America approached the Skull, immediately engaging in a physical fight with him.  Just as Steve slammed him over the head with his indestructible shield, Schmidt laughed used the power of the tesseract to transport himself to an unknown location.  The glowing blue cube burned through the metal grating of the floor, through the plane, and dropped thousands of feet into the ice water below.  With no one controlling the plane, Steve took a seat and wiped blood from his lip, staring at the radar to determine where he was.  “At this rate I’ll be over New York in fifteen minutes…” The reality dawned on him that there would be no safe landing.  He’d have to bring the plane down in the Arctic Circle. “Logan...” Steve tensed suddenly.  He had confirmed that he would be back by tonight, that it wasn’t a big deal.  Yet here he was, about to crash a bomb carrying aircraft into Titanic sinking conditions while Logan was back at base, half asleep and content with the idea that Steve would return in a few hours.  Knowing there was no time to think, Steve pushed the plane into a nosedive, losing altitude at a drastic pace. “I-I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” They had barely known each other more than two days, yet Steve felt as if he were losing the largest opportunity of his life.  But hey, at least he was saving a decent amount of the American population… right?  The plane shot downwards through a layer of clouds, ice crystals forming all over the surface.  Steve’s gasp was cut off as the floor of water shot up much faster than he expected.  Before he could inhale fully, the glacial seawater flooded the cabin, chunks of ice smashing through the windshield.  Funny, the arctic water was crystal clear against his eyes, then a nice deep blue several feet away… then navy in the distance… then pure black.

                **2012.**   Steve had woken up. The lost soul from World War II had been dragged back to SHIELD after escaping and almost getting run over after running smack dab in the middle of Times Square.  “So… is this where I’m working from now on?” he asked Fury as he was given a tour of the facility. 

                “That’s right,” he agreed, walking through the corridors.  A month passed, which allowed Steve to become a bit more accustomed to the present day.

                As he sat at a round table with Stark, Nat, Carol and Clint, talk of the next mission series came up.  Unless a war was to begin, tensions simply had to be eased with the X-men.  Things were just getting too hostile lately.  Hate crimes, accusations, the cure, it never ended. “The X-Men?” Steve asked without a clue.

                Tony tapped a few places on the table monitor, causing a three dimensional image to rise in front of them displaying the X-men.  Some scenes showed them in battle, others showed their profiles and location status.  “You know, the oversensitive super freaks? Not ringing a bell?”  Tony smirked and chuckled at Steve’s lack of knowledge on the matter.  “Basically they’re a bit… defected from birth. Or altered from birth, I prefer defected.” He laughed to himself. “But there’s only about two hundred of their kind left anyways.  So whenever they decide to realize that not everyone is ‘out to get them’, things will be a lot easier.  Course people see them as a threat, but they’re a bunch of drama mamas about it all- Steve, you with me here?”  Tony noticed that Steve was more focused on one of the X-Men, and how he furrowed his brows.

                “Who’s that?” Steve pointed at the distant image of a dark haired mutant who was slashing anything that got in his way to pieces.

                “Mmmm…” Tony leaned in for a closer look.  “Oh, Wolverine, I believe. Yup, that’s him.”

                “Wolverine…” Steve said to himself.  “Bring up a profile of him, would you?”  He rested his chin in his hand as he waited for the statistics to pop up.  Steve’s heart stopped as he saw the face, the name.  “Logan Howlett…” he muttered.

                “What’s up with his claws?”  Steve questioned, noticing how they glinted in the light.

                “Oh, some psycho scientists thought it would be a good idea to make his skeleton like your shield.  Adamantium is virtually indestructible.  Lucky they didn’t kill him off.  Why are you even interested, though?”  Tony tapped a pen against his chin and watched as Steve made a mental note of the Xavier School address, then standing and rushing out.

                Steve couldn’t wipe the grin off his face.  Guess seventy years couldn’t do that much harm. “Thank God…” Steve hopped on his bike, speeding skillfully down the city blocks and onto the freeway, arriving in Westchester in a bit more than an hour.  Setting down the kickstand, Steve stood in front of the property, almost in awe at how beautiful and well-kept the place was.  After walking up the gravel circular driveway, around the fountain, Steve stood at the front door and knocked while containing his anxiety.

                The door opened, with a little boy standing several feet away.  _So that’s telekinesis_ , Steve thought. 

                “Who’re you?” the boy asked, standing in the entrance.

                “Logan here? I thought maybe you knew him.” Steve eagerly shifted his gaze past the boy and into the living room.

                “Danny who you talking to?” someone asked from another room in the gigantic home. 

                “I don’t know.  He asked for you.”

                “Do I have to kill someone or-” Logan stopped as he passed by the door, taking Danny’s place as he ran back off to class.  “And you are?”

                “It’s me… Can I come in?” Steve asked with a suddenly reserved tone. 

                “That doesn’t clear it up, but I don’t see why not…” Logan stepped back to let the visitor in.  “Got a name, bub?”

                “You know me, Logan… It’s me… Steve.”  Why didn’t Logan remember? How could he forget the fact that the person he wanted died in a freak accident?  Unless of course, he never meant anything to him. 

                “Heads up, if you’re coming to me from more than a decade or so ago, you’re gettin’ a little fuzzy.  Any more than that and I won’t remember anythin’. Just a warning.” He frowned slightly.  “Sorry to disappoint.  They forgot to mention the indestructible skeleton package came with a free memory wipe.”  Logan shrugged, wishing he could remember on the inside.  Little did he know, the pain he suffered through after Steve’s crash determined that as the most miserable couple of years of his life.  Because the longer you live, the more friends and loves you lose.

                “Logan… Please…” Steve reached for his hand and rubbed between his knuckles.  “Remember how hurt you got? During the war and… and we…” He was desperate now.  What could be more heart wrenching then finally finding the person you were devastated to lose, only to learn they have no clue who you are?  His eyes teared, and Logan was unable to speak.  Clearly something happened between the two of them that was relatively significant.  “I know you remember… You have to…” Steve gripped Logan’s hand tighter, knowing letting go would ruin his last chance.  “Someone here can jog your memories… S-someone Logan…”

                Logan surprisingly didn’t want to shrug the poor guy off, because he had to have a reason for this performance.  He was no telepath, but Steve sure wasn’t lying.  “Steve just... do me a favor and calm-” Logan swallowed as he looked towards the top of the staircase, patting Steve’s back now in order to get him to a respectable distance. He whispered, “Move, come on.  Outta’ the way a little bit.”

                Steve sniffed and wiped his nose as he heard someone clear their throat.  He just couldn’t ever win. Looking up at the staircase, he spotted a man in dark red glasses walking down the stairs, one hand gliding down the railing.  “Who’s this.” The man looked Steve up and down, clearly judging in those eyes behind his shades.

                “I don’t know, Scott-” Logan began to say as Scott didn’t break eye contact with Steve. 

 Scott approached Logan, snaking his arms around his waist and tucking his head under Logan’s chin.  Even Steve could see the death stare shooting at him from behind Scott’s red lenses.  “So, they finally thawed out the Captain, hmm...” Scott rubbed Logan’s back and sides, still glaring at Steve as if he was planning on blasting him through the wall.  Eventually, Scott turned to his lover and focused on only him, kissing underneath his chin.

Guilt and embarrassment overcame Steve as his glance dropped to the floor.

Scott smirked with his lips parted as he saw Steve’s expression from the corner of his eye, tilting his head down a bit and letting out a small chuckle as he continued to stare at Logan.  “Why don’t you head on home, Cap.”  He turned to Steve while holding Logan tighter, motioning his head towards the door.  Logan was too confused to intervene.

Steve looked back up at Scott, his eyes clouded over as he met Logan’s gaze one last time.  Unable to say a word without breaking down and feeling like an idiot for showing up here in the first place, Steve collected himself and walked briskly away, shutting the door behind him.  Scott laughed again, and Steve was stabbed with shame.  As he walked back towards his bike, he attempted to convince himself everything was alright.  

He didn’t need someone he came across by accident almost a century ago.  There was no use forcing someone to recall something they genuinely were unable to remember.  Besides, there were more important things to do.  Protect the city from attack, save lives, all that stuff… Right… He began telling himself often that he was selfish.  That he had to stop focusing on himself.  He was a hero. _Don’t be ridiculous, Steve.  People like you shouldn’t have time for this anyway. It’s not important,_ he told himself. _It’s not important._   Waking up in a new time brought Steve to what he realized was the truth.  They could make him strong, make him a hero, but you can’t have it all. Total happiness doesn’t just pop up out of nowhere.  Scott Summers, he’s a lucky guy.  It worked for him.  Good.  Steve forced himself to smile through his sadness.  He had a team to lead, and a country to focus on.  Not even his stupid, gullible heart would be able to get in the way of that.

                


End file.
